Daring
by navycorpsman
Summary: Taken from Todd's journal. Just a drabble. There's several drabbles, but they all beg to be their own stories...I'm sure I've posted all the follow ups. LoL Fu on all the rest of Todd's Journal.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this fic...If I DID own the characters, I'd have Charlie all to myself! And Neil would still be alive...and Charlie would be mine...and Mr. Keating would still have his job...and Charlie would be mine...and Chet Danbury would have his but kicked by Knox...and Charlie would be mine...and it would have been Cameron that would have been expelled...and Charlie would be mine...and Todd would have a back bone...and did I mention Charlie would be mine? I did? Oh...Okay! Well then. It's settled. Charlie would be mine if I owned the characters.**

**HOWEVER...I have this affinity for Todd Anderson and decided to every once in a while write a drabble from his 'journal'. Of course they'll be short. I sort of think these would be the words he'd write if he kept a journal. Hope you all enjoy!**

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The meeting was a Friday night. It was unusual, but a Friday, nonetheless. Knox was a party Charlie was off doing whatever Charlie does. But, as we are reciting Thoreau's introduction, we hear giggling outside the cave and Charlie encouraging the giggles to come in.

Charlie just smiles. He introduces the girls (Tina and Gloria. Lovely girls. But I think a little drunk.) and we all are overcome with silence. None of us know what to say. I see Pitts and Meeks over there, trying not to squirm.

Charlie is confident and he's cool. I wish I could be. Girls, for some reason, scare me. I don't know. Maybe it's because I don't know what to say to them. Obviously, Charlie knows what to say to get girls. However, it didn't take long to figure out what he said to them.

Charlie leans back and simply asks? "We gonna have a meeting or what?"

We all just stare at him for a moment before Gloria pipes up. "Yeah. If you guys don't have a meeting, how do we know if we wanna join?

Neil barely chokes on the word "Join?" I think he said that for all of us. None of us…I don't think any of us thought about having girls in the club. But, Neil handles it with grace. He says nothing, though as I watched him, he had a lot to say if he chose to say it.

The rest of also say nothing. I'm too scared to say anything. Pitts and Meeks are too shy. Cameron doesn't even know what to say. And Neil. Well, he's too much of a classy guy to say anything.

Instead, Charlie leans over to Tina and quotes Shakespeare as though it were his own. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more temperate and more lovely."

True to form, Tina sighs. Charlie, in true to Charlie form, leans over to Gloria and quotes Byron…again as if it were his own. And he plays it too. "She walks in beauty like the night." Slight pause for dramatic affect. And again…he looks at Gloria and continues, acting as though he just wrote this poem for her. "She walks in beauty like the night. Of cloudless climes and starry skies. And all that's best and dark and bright, meet in her aspect and her eyes." Gloria sighed and remarked it was beautiful. Charlie, ever the ladies man, leans back, and with an air of confidence I've never noted on anyone before, looks at each girl and smiles. "There's plenty more where that came from."

We all choke, knowing that he meant the poetry he memorized and not poetry he wrote.

Again, silence descends on the cave. None of us really know what to say and Charlie, well, Charlie's too busy trying to figure out the best poem to get one or both of the girls out of their skirts. I know…I saw the look.

The silence is too overwhelming and one of the girls hands Neil a bottle of alcohol. Despite Cameron shaking his head at Neil to not take a drink, Neil does anyway. He's drank alcohol before, I'm sure of it. I took a sip and it nearly knocked me on my ass and I cough slightly, but Neil…he and Charlie act like it's old hat for them. Again, silence overwhelmed us in the cave until Meeks speaks up.

He nervously coughs and stammers. "Me and Pitts are working on a hi-fi system. It should be that hard to, uh, to put together." I feel his nervousness.

Pitts uncharacteristically speaks up. "Yeah. Uh, I might be going to Yale. But, uh, I might not." I can feel his nervousness as well. I think everyone, except Charlie (who has decided to go by 'Nuwanda' and the girls, senses everyone else's nervousness.

Gloria speaks up, a soft high voice, with a touch of drunkenness to it. "Don't you guy miss having girls around here?"

We all smile and nod "Yeah."

Of course, Charlie isn't all talk and no action. He stands up, takes a puff of his cigarette, and confidently speaks. "That's what this club is all about." His voice is more demanding. "In fact, I'd like to announce that I published an article in the school paper in the name of the Dead Poets."

We are all shocked and Cameron, for once, speaks for all of us. "What?"

Charlie, being Charlie, continues as though he hadn't heard Cameron. "Demanding that girls be admitted to Welton." I barely heard what he whispered to Meeks.

Neil, always demanding answers, accusingly asks Charlie how he did it. Charlie merely smiles. "I'm one of the proofers. I slipped the article in."

Meeks sighs. "It's over now."

Charlie, still defiant and not thinking he did anything wrong, looks at Meeks. "Why? Nobody knows who we are."

Again, Cameron speaks for the group. "Well, don't you think they're going to figure it out who wrote it? They're going to come to you and ask to know what the Dead Poets Society is. Charlie, you had _no_ right to something like that!"

"It's Nuwanda, Cameron." Charlie's as defiant as ever. Gloria reiterates that it is indeed Nuwanda and Charlie picks up the cue. "Are we just playing around out here, or do we mean what we say? If all we do is come together and read a bunch of poems to each other, what the hell are we doing?"

Neil now speaks with authority. "All right, but you still shouldn't have done it, _Charlie_ (Neil emphasized 'Charlie', possibly for dramatics) This could mean trouble. You don't speak for the club."

Defiant Charlie simply tells Neil to not worry about his precious little neck and if he's caught, he'll say he made it up. None of us believe him.

Secretly, I admire Charlie. Part of me thinks it's more than just mere admiration. I know I mentioned it last entry (I think), but I do rather hero-worship Charlie Dalton too. To be free like that…to know who you are and what you want and not be afraid of what people say about you or do to you or what they even think about you. He…Charlie…like Neil, personifies "Carpe Diem!"

How I wish I could do that.

On Monday, the professors and Mr. Nolan agitatedly enter the chapel, several of them carrying newspapers. Oh, we know what it's about, but we try to pretend we don't. We simply sit stoned faced.

Mr. Nolan stood at the podium and spoke in a voice that was harsh, demanding, and angry. "In this week's issue of Welton Honor, there appeared a profane and unauthorized article." He didn't want to spend his time ferreting out the guilty persons (and he assured – if it can be assuring – that he _would_ find them), he asked that any and all students who knew about it to make themselves known. I squirmed in my seat, and I noticed a couple other of the Society do the same. Mr. Nolan continued. "Whoever the guilty persons are, this is your only chance to avoid expulsion from this school."

Expulsion? Why did I find some excitement in that? Why, if I said that I…but, I couldn't. Couldn't lie just to leave Hell-ton. I was too scared to lie.

Not Charlie. Charlie wasn't afraid. As soon as Mr. Nolan's speech ended, we all heard a phone ringing and Charlie's voice answer it. "Welton Academy. Hello? Yes, he is. Just a moment." Charlie stood up, bell and phone in hand. He held the receiver out to Mr. Nolan. "Mr. Nolan, it's for you. It's God. He says we should have girls at Welton."

While other students laugh, we merely shake our heads in disbelief. We did know a punishment was coming. Hopefully, not for all of us. But, we didn't have to worry. He came back to the rooms, dried remnants of tears on his face.

Neil looks at our friend. "You kicked out?

Charlie heaves a sigh. "No."

Neil sighs back. "So, what happened?"

Charlie stood in his door. "I'm to turn everybody in, apologize to the school and all will be forgiven."

Neil's voice echoed the fear on his face and he spoke the fear we all felt. "So what are you gonna do? Charlie?"

Charlie lingers in his door, and looks at Neil Frustrated, but with a sense of humor, Charlie looks at Neil. "Dammit, Neil. The name's Nuwanda." As he smiles and closes his door, we all know that he kept his word and said he made it up.

Yes, Charlie Dalton is daring.


End file.
